Tag Archives: E.L. James

21 Days of Gratitude: 3 in 1 Blow

Get it?  Thanksgiving, gratitude?  Also Squanto was hot.

Get it? Thanksgiving = gratitude? Also Squanto was hot.

So I’ve fallen behind in my gratitude stuff, blah blah, bite me.  I’m determined to get through every one of these (aren’t you happy?)  Let’s see, what was Day 3?

Day 3: Write about something you feel grateful for in your life today.

I just know what some people would write here.  God.  I’m grateful to God cause like I exist and He hasn’t started another flood in spite of the Tea Party, etc etc.  You know what I think?  Total cop out there.  Don’t get me wrong – I have nothing against God at all.  I just have something against people who feel they constantly, and I mean CONSTANTLY, have to tell everyone how much they love Him.  It’s sort of like the guy who is always going on and on about how wonderful and perfect and speshul his wife is.  If he’s been married to her over 24 hours, I’m looking for the girl in the closet.

Note: You show love for people (and the god you worship) in how you LIVE not just in what you SAY.  That being said, I’m so so grateful for my readers!  You guys are awesome!  Even the spambots!

(cough) Cop out.

(cough) Cop out.

Okay, fine, that’s a no-brainer too.  Obviously I’m grateful for my readers.  Just like I’m grateful for my Things – especially when they are hilarious and clever and, at times, out of my hair.  So I need to use my noggin to come up with something different.  And I did.  Not only that, it takes out two days of gratitude with one stone!

Day 4: Write a short message of thanks for some of the “negative” things in your life.

I didn’t put the quotes around negative.  What do they mean by “negative”?  Are we talking “dog doo on the shoe” vs “terrorist attack” or what?  Nevermind.  I found something that answers what I’m grateful for even though it’s a definite negative (no quotes needed).

I am grateful for E.L. James.

WhyAlicewhywhywhywhysomeonegetadoctorsheslostitforgoooood!

WhyAlicewhywhywhywhy someonegetadoctorsheslostitforgoooood!

No, I’m serious.  I am thankful, in the negative, for her because if she hadn’t written such crappy books, I would not have been compelled to make 1,000 posts mercilessly mocking them (and her) and so would not have been noticed by someone else mocking her (Speaker 7 – rest her soul) and would not have gotten my hilarious, inspiring readers.  Which I really am grateful for, along with God (please don’t strike me down).

Okay, so 3 and 4 are done and now we’re on day 5.  Hurrah.

Day 5: Take five minutes to write about how grateful you are for all of the wonderful things that you currently have in your life.  Don’t long for what you can’t possess-instead, take stock of all the blessings you already enjoy.

I'm watching you, Alice.

I’m watching you, Alice.

Five minutes?  Am I supposed to time myself, cause I type pretty fast.  Also, has anyone else noticed that this is getting a bit repetitive?  How many times do I need to be grateful for the same things?  And another thing – notice that grateful is not spelled like “great” but like “grate” which is something that like covers vents and stuff?  I always have to hit spell check on that one to make sure I’m right.  Maybe not after this exercise.

I also considered that this would be a good way to show off to other people, especially if you post these suckers on Facebook or something.  For example:

I’m grateful for my 1,000 inch flat screen TV, my XBOX 7500, my 5 million buckaroos in the bank, my handsome and virile husband, my perfect straight A, gorgeous, athletic children, the LORD, my house in Malibu, Ronald Reagan, brown paper packages tied up in string, kittens, and the less fortunate people (ie the rest of you) because you make me feel superior.  Amen.

I could do that, but I won’t.  I, Alice, am thankful for all the wonderful things in my life (how long have I been writing now?) like fuzzy socks, electric blankets, and those family and friends I live with and chat with (like my Wonder Twin!) and all that stuff.  And also my FABULOUS READERS who will most definitely leave me lots of comments now.

Alice.

 

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Here I am baby
Signed, sealed delivered
I’m yours
– Stevie Wonder.

Is blogging writing?  I find that an amusing question.  I’ve seen people debate this in various articles, blogs, and so on.  Many people don’t know what blogging is, and if they do know, they don’t care.  Isn’t that just, like, an online diary?  Isn’t it kind of, you know, narcissistic?

me
Wait, where did that come from?

Well, yes, but I’m really not sure what isn’t when it comes to writing.  And yes, of course blogging is writing.  I know there are some bloggers who would hesitate to call themselves writer, as if writer were this magical title only bestowed upon those lucky enough to get published.  Let’s think about that a moment, shall we?  Who do we know who has gotten published and has the brain of a sea monkey?  That’s right.  E.L. James has been published and made millions!  Does that make her a writer?

Yes, it does.  She’s a BAD writer, yes, but still, a writer.  Anyone who puts a pen to paper or fingers to keys is a writer.  But there are, as always, degrees.  I had a college professor hand me back my paper once and tell me, “You can write, Alice.  I can teach certain things like structure and grammar, but I can’t teach this.  You have it or you don’t.”  Would you believe I had a major crush on this teacher?  Yeah, big surprise.  But he had a point.  People can improve to an extent, but either you have natural talent, or you do not.

E.L. : You don't.

E.L. : You don’t.

So there are bloggers out there, just like there are some published writers, who suck.  I mean, really suck.  Reading E.L. James was like repeatedly hitting speed bumps with my car, only instead of speed bumps they were stupid things.  La la la STUPID  la la STUPID la la la STUPID STUPID STUPID la la etc.  It’s hard to concentrate that way.  I’ve seen some blogs -no none of yours – that are also pretty awful.  A good way to find some of these blogs is to check out some of the random people who follow you before anyone else knows who you are.  For instance, there was one guy from the Middle East whose blog consisted mostly of pictures of half naked, overweight American women.  He was one of my first followers.  But he was what I’d call a “bad blogger.”

He DID earn one of these, though.

He DID earn one of these, though.

But there are so many good bloggers!  And just like with publishing, there are many who haven’t been noticed yet.  They just need a little push, usually from someone who already has an audience, and then bang!  Like me, they become wildly famous!  Yeah, okay, I’m not a famous blogger, but that’s okay.  I have an audience of loyal readers and I’m happy with that.  There was a time, and this probably happens with a lot of bloggers, that I thought – hey, maybe someone will publish this mish-mash of stuff I vomited on the page!  But I’m mostly past that now (not that I would turn it down Mr. bored publisher who happened upon my blog!).  All I’ve ever really wanted was to make people laugh, and sometimes think a little, but mostly just laugh.  And I do that.

Ha, ha, ha.

Ha, ha, ha.

I’ve seen what writers go through to get published.  Just check out Carrie Rubin’s blog to see the fun she’s had on the road to publishing.  By the way, she has this book out, and another one is coming out soon.  But the thing is, it’s just not worth it to me, at least not at this point.  Maybe when the kids are older, maybe when I have more time, maybe when I start farting unicorns, I don’t know.  But right now, at this moment, what I have is okay.

So in a way, this is kind of my love letter to my readers, and just in time for Valentine’s Day.  I can pretend I don’t care if anyone reads my stuff.  Like, I am a writer, and I’m good at it, I know this, and I don’t have to have people validate it.  I don’t have to, but, well . . .

signed sealed delivered

Pathetic?  Some might say so.  So be it.  Because here I am, right here, writing for myself, but also for the ones who read me.  I’ve discovered that there are more than I realize, people who read and don’t comment, who just “like” or even who just breeze by.  None of us can know how much we affect other people day by day.  Some of the best comments I can get are “That made me laugh.” or “That brightened my day.”  or best of all “That made me snort my drink through my nose, thanks Alice!”

So now I thank you.

Signed, sealed, delivered,

Alice

Ways to Skin a Sim: 50 Shades Edition

Last time I asked what series, if any, you’d like me to continue.  The majority (of like 3) voted for Boppo torture.  I love you guys.  But as I was considering another way to kill a clown, I remembered that Speaker 7 had made a request.  She asked “Can you please do the same thing only with Sims versions of Christian Grey and Ana Steele?”  I thought it was a BRILLIANT idea.  So I did it.

Now it wouldn’t surprise me if many disturbed women have made their own Christians and Anas, so as to repeat the horror of that story over and over in Sim form.  I’m going to play with them a bit differently, however.  As in I’m going to beat the snot out of them, just as I wanted to sooo many times whilst reading those books.  Take this, James.

First off, I made our happy couple.  Since James gave so many details (as in almost none) it was pretty easy to create them.  Christian has mussy red hair, a gray tie, and long fingers.  Well I got the hair and the tie.  Score.  Next Ana has brown hair (just like crackwhore mom’s, awww) and is wearing the plum dress she borrowed from her friend several dozen times.  I think I’d want that dress back as much as I’d want Monica Lewinsky’s.

Next I had to build a house for the psychotic pair.  Just like James, I decided to make it as subtle and unassuming as possible.  Observe. (Click to enlarge)

Doesn't everyone have a helicopter in the front yard?

Doesn’t everyone have a helicopter in the front yard?

I figured Federal Fortress was right up their alley and added the helicopter pad for good old Charlie Tango (yes he named the helicopter).  You might wonder why I remember all these details from the book.  That’s only because they are repeated 5 BILLION TIMES.  James should really consider teaching the times tables or something.  The kids would never forget their math facts then. (1 buttplug plus 1 buttplug = red)

But what is Christian’s house without the Red Room (red room, red roooom?)  It’s almost normal, that’s what.  I couldn’t find whips and chains, because even Sims hasn’t gotten quite that deranged yet, so I had to make due with a trellis.  I figure Christian is creative enough to tie her up to that while also growing fresh strawberries, you know, “down there”.

You’ll notice a “toy chest” in the corner for all of Christian’s sex toys (buttplugs in every shape and size – I wish I was kidding) and a flying model of Charlie Tango that Ana gave Christipoo for his birthday.  Their bed is like something out of Martha Stewart!  And just for the hell of it, I added a spotlight and mirrors, because we’re talking Christian and Ana, and there’s nothing they’d like more.  Oh, yeah, and in the corner, there’s that roaster that took out poor Boppo.  Hmm.

Christian and Ana doing what they do best - each other.

Christian and Ana doing what they do best – each other.

You might even notice that Ana has on the matching underwear set that Christian’s bodyguard bought for her, because of course that’s what bodyguards do and OMG I will never get this crap out of my brain help meeeee.

I kept thinking something was missing, though, and then I knew.  Lilah!  Lilah, in case you didn’t read my amazing recaps (There’s only like a billion of them, what’s wrong with you?) is Christian’s crazy ex-girlfriend who unfortunately fails to successfully gun down Christian and Ana.  She’s still my favorite character so I made her a Sim.  Pretty easy – just take Ana and put her hair in braids.  Christian likes braids because MAKE IT STOP!

What’s so funny about the Sims is that you can never predict what they’re going to do.  As soon as I added Lilah to the family, she went right up to the Red Room and oblivious to Christian and Ana, started playing with the remote control Charlie Tango.

Yes, Lilah, I find the toy helicopter much more interesting as well.

Yes, Lilah, I find the toy helicopter much more interesting as well.

But here I haven’t gotten to the torturing part yet!  My apologies.  First up – morons on fire!

Zomg Christian is so HAWT!

Zomg Christian is so HAWT!

A twisted reader, Tammy, told me about something called the Tombstone of Death you could get through a cheat that allowed you to quickly kill Sims in every possible way.  I had to have it, of course, and made quick use of it.  Next up, Christian death by flies!

I like how manly he looks while the flies attack him.

I like how manly he looks while the flies attack him.  Jazz hands, Christian!

Boppo may get a post per death, but I really couldn’t wait with these two.   You can’t possibly understand how much you can hate fictional characters until you take a gander at these books.  Anyway next I had Christian get struck by lightning while peeing.  Karma anyone?

God is trying to tell you something, Christipoo.

God is trying to tell you something, Christipoo.

One thing I found funny was that after Christian turned to ash, Lilah cried for two seconds, then started plunging the toilet.  With Ana she didn’t even shed one tear, just scooped her up in the dust bin.  She might be nuts, but the girl is practical.

Ana gets some fun too, don’t worry.  While reading, how many times did I think – I wish a Satellite would fall out of the sky and she would burst into flames?  Lots.  Considering Christian failed to properly die in the Charlie Tango, I felt someone should die in a freak explosion.

BOOOOOOOOM!  Wheeeee!

BOOOOOOOOM! Wheeeee!

While that was immensely satisfying, I felt it wasn’t quite “Ana” enough.  First I tried death by disease, and it was pretty cool to see her choking (who didn’t want to choke her at least once?) but then I settled on death by starvation, since Ana only eats about 50 calories throughout all three books.

Sadly Christian asks for room service a little late as Ana, dramatically of course, dies.

Sadly Christian asks for room service a little late as Ana hams up her death.  Perfect.

That’s all I have.  Though I could have done this dozens more times, you get the picture.  Or pictures.  This is the best we can do until the fabulous movie comes out.  Good news, one actor was selected for Christian, got a whiff of the script, and ran screaming.  I’m thinking they should get Macauley Culkin.  He needs the work.  I’d say Hugo, but he has way too much class.

Will I watch the movie?  Of course I will.  And I’ll review it – eventually.  I still haven’t managed to get more than 15 minutes through Eclipse, though, so it might be a while. After reviewing the first two Twilight movies, I had to let my stomach rest.  Also, I had the Things to help me with those two reviews, and I’m pretty sure people might consider that child abuse. I know they did.  So next time I’ll be on my own.

Unless I get CRC.

Ad Libs Contest: Dear E.L. James

I am writing this as part of a contest for open letter ad libs at So I Went Undercover‘s blog.  It was a lot of fun.  You should go check it out and try one of your own.

The red print represents what I added to the letter.  I’m sure you’ll be shocked at my choice of subject.

Dear E.L. James,

I have been trying to forget that I feel this way for quite a while, but I can’t pretend anymore.  I am really madfaced. You know when you write?  Well, let me share how that makes me feel…  When you write, I feel like shoving wood screws in my eyes.  Not so much annoyed or even perturbed, but really, really pissed off.  It makes me want to smack a kitten.  I would like to think that I am not the only one who feels this way.  As a matter of fact, you know most of the sane people on this planet?  Well they told me that you suck.

You know what they say:  If one person says you’re a hack writer, you can forget it.  When two people say you’re a hack writer that sucks, you might want to consider it.  When three people say you’re a hack writer that sucks monkey balls you might want to STOP WRITING.  It’s about that time for you, E.L.  Think about that.

Since we are being so honest, there are a few other things I would like to air.  I hate it when you talk to the media about how you’re empowering women.  It makes me want to twist your head off.

I also hate the way you develop characters.  Every time you mention Christian or Ana I want to puke in your Begonias, if you have Begonias.

Also, Stephenie Meyer is not your real friend.  Remember that secret that you shared?  Well she shared it with everyone.  Now everyone knows you blatantly plagiarized her work and they all laugh at you behind your back.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.  I really like you.  I value our relationship.  But I cannot go on pretending 50 Shades of Grey hasn’t happened.  If you care enough about me and this relationship, I am sure you would agree to STOP WRITING IMMEDIATELY.

Still friends?

Fondly,

Alice

I Hate Everyone

Fuck off, Sunshine

Fuck off, Sunshine

Haha, but not you guys!  I mean, unless you choose not to read this post or leave comments; then I hate you.  It’s nothing personal.  I hate pretty much everyone a large portion of the time. That is why this is one of my favorite songs.  It’s sort of like the anti-Barney song.  Here’s a clip on youtube.  Someone went to the trouble of slapping some lyrics on the screen while it plays.  I hate that person.  Probably.

But that’s not all.  Since I didn’t bother to think up a real post, (this is always a promising beginning to a post isn’t it?) here are people I hate.

That guy in the drive-through at McDonald’s that cut in line.  Fuck you, stupid car.  Wait your turn.  Didn’t you go to freaking kindergarten?  That IS where you’re supposed to fucking learn everything.  I hope someone beats the crap out of you on the playground today.

I hate you too, Ronald.  Stupid clown.

I hate you too, Ronald. Stupid clown.

Patrons.  I mean, wtf, they want me to serve them?  Get away from my books.

People who call with the wrong number but then ask if my number is really 555-5555 and I’m like yes, come to think of it, that person is here after all.  Let me go get him and have him hang up on you.

Adults who freak out over cuss words.  Fuck off, Mary Poppins.  These are awesome words.  Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuckballs.

Stephenie Meyer.  E.L. James.  Whoever copies E.L. James.  Whoever copies that person.

Kirsten Stewart – just fucking say your lines, will you?  I know it’s a stupid movie, but you’re getting paid millions.  Stuttering was only charming on JIMMY Stewart.

L-li-line.  What's . . . my line?

L-li-line. What’s . . . my line?

People who think they are parenting experts.  I hope your kid writes a tell-all book about how much you suck.  This would make me very happy.

The Religious Right.  Shut up.  And stop denying people rights.  If Miss Four Eyes wants to marry a depressed pony and a manic squirrel then she can!  Is this not a free country?

Patrons again.  If we don’t have a magazine in, we don’t have it.  We aren’t hiding it.  We librarians cannot magically pull periodicals out of our asses.  If we could, we would make better money.

Children.  Always asking for food and water and attention.  Get a job you little brats.

Get to work.  Formula ain't gonna buy itself.

Formula ain’t gonna buy itself.

People who think filtering computers is a good idea.  I can’t get into perfectly reasonable sites, but I can get into my own blog.  This means your filter isn’t working, douchebag.

The publish button.  Just – push – it.  Push it.  Do it.  Go on.

People like me, who are given awesome ideas for posts, (Satanic Yoga!) but just come up with this crap.

So there you go.  My favorite lines from that song?  Right here:

I bet you think I’m kidding

But I promise you it’s true

I hate most everybody

But most of all, I hate, oh I hate yo-uuu.

Do YOU hate anyone, boys and girls? Please say so in the comments below!

50 Shades of Mmmbop

Last week I finished covering the last 50 Shades book.  After each of the preceding books, I published a reflection on the book.  Usually this consisted of a rant, followed by another rant, followed by still more ranting.  I figured I’d do the same thing one last time.  Except when I try to think of that series, I mean anything in any of those books, all I come up with is . . . um.  Uhmm.  Mmm.  Mmmmmbop, Mmm bop, ba duba dop, ba du bop, ba duba dop, ba du bop, ba duba dop, Ba du.

I bet you thought you’d forgotten that song, right?  But it popped into my head the other day and it still hasn’t left.  You know what’s really, really bad though?  I like that song.  It’s a dopey, pointless, nonsensical, bubble-gum pop sung by prepubescent little brats, but gosh darn it’s freaking catchy.  And it has now filled that void in my head left by 50 Shades.  I have to say . . . I like Hanson much, much better than Christian, Ana, E.L. James, Puff the Magic Dragon, and all the other characters in that series.

So since the song is now in my brain, I figured I might as well buy the stupid song and play it for my kids.  Because I’m going to be forced to listen to teeny bopper stuff anyway, so it might as well be my teeny bopper stuff.  That’s all I’m saying.  And when I got home the other day we played the song and the Things and I danced like Peanuts characters while holding hands, boing, boing, boing and it was fun.  They like the song too, and now it’s in their brains, and they will probably spread it to their friends.  There might be a Hanson revival.  I don’t care.  It still beats that Wrong Direction group that’s big right now.

Oh, and since I didn’t know any of the lyrics to that song except “Mmmbop” which is what I sing throughout the entire song, even when they are supposedly singing other words, I looked them up on Google. I found them on www.elyrics.net.  You’re welcome.  As it turns out, the lyrics really do reflect on 50 Shades of Grey.  Here’s a sample:

In an mmm bop they’re gone.
In an mmm bop they’re not there.
In an mmm bop they’re gone.
In an mmm bop they’re not there.
Until you lose your hair. But you don’t care.

That’s so true, Hanson.  So true.  And just because I love you guys, I included a link to the video for your viewing pleasure.  Enjoy.  And Mmmbop.

The Final Chapter and . . . WTF????

Last chapter! Last chapter!  Wow, that’s a long freaking chapter.  I’ll just skim by and . . . okay Chapter 25 ends and then there’s . . . . still 36 pages.  What the hell?  Okay, yes, I could have read ahead but there’s only so much you can stomach at a time.  Now that I think of it, Speaker 7 said something about this . . . bloop, blop, bleep, I think it was.  There is an Epilogue.  Okay.  Then when you get to the end of that there is . . . still 24 pages.  I have entered a wormhole from which there is no escape, peeps.  The last 24 pages are from Christian’s point of view.

This is the swirling vortex James has sucked us into.

This is the swirling vortex James has sucked us into.

Wait just a fucking second.  Okay, so it wasn’t bad enough that she copied Stephenie Meyer’s idiot Twilight series, she has actually had the gall to copy her stupid idea to retell the entire story again from Edward’s point of view.  In case you didn’t know, Meyer tried this trick and duh-er let someone leak the first few chapters onto the Internet, threw a pouty fit about it, and decided she was not finishing it so there.  Thank God for whoever leaked that book.  But anyway, James – James copied that too, yet they are seriously saying this is an original work and I just . . . I just . . . bloop, blop, bleep.

Okay.  I said I’d finish this and damn it, James is not going to beat me.  Wrong choice of words.  Christian tells his child abuse bedtime story to Ana, and still, still says it was all great because Mrs. Robinson gave him focus.  I don’t . . . how . . . how does she manage to be so offensive on so many levels about so many things at one time?

Moving on.  There’s a lot of blah, blah about how he saw Mrs. Robinson and she made a pass and he had a fucking epiphany and I don’t care.  Christian is scared he’ll be a shitty father.  I’m certain he’ll be a shitty father.  The next morning Ana dresses all smutty so that maybe Edward, uh, Christian will have sex with her.  And they get all touchy feely right in front of poor Mrs. Jones.  Run, Mrs. Jones, run!

If Christian starts sparkling, all bets are off. I'm trashing this book.

If Christian starts sparkling, all bets are off. I’m trashing this book.

Christian says Ros is back from Taiwan and wait a second, I’m certain he said she was fired a few chapters ago.  Nevermind, not going back to look.  They go see the new house.  Blah blah.  They go have a picnic.  Blah.  Christian gets a call on the Elmo phone and finds out, oh noos, it was Mrs. Robinson’s ex that posted bail for Jack Hyde!  Who gives a shit?  Not me!  He totally ruins the guy’s life (his face is in a hard line as he does this, btw), then it’s back to snuggie time with Ana.  Soon they’re banging each other again in the meadow and her panties “disintegrate” (where do you get this underwear?) and pages go by, by, by.  They talk about “demon seed” and in the same breath about how Ana really, really misses how Christian used to whack her around in the playroom.

Next, we’re back at the house, and Ana gets the urge to email Christian.

Last time, kitty, we swear.  RIP.

Last time, kitty, we swear. RIP.

She does the whole submissive pose, and oh hooray, we are right back to the beginning again.  My head hits the desk.  End Chapter.  Begin Epilogue.  Crap in a hat.

OMG, James actually skips a few years.  Ana is preggers again and . . . Christian is . . . just . . . this is at the top of the New York Times list.  Bestseller.  Sigh.  Christian is whapping his heavily pregnant wife with a flogger and she’s going wild.  You know – I get that some people like the pain thing. I don’t understand it, but whatever.  But, um, she’s pregnant.  I’m thinking flogging is probably not a good idea for fetuses.  Just me, of course, what the hell do I know?

Whaaaaat?

WTF???

It gets worse.  I’m starting to doubt the idea that there could be a loving force of good in this universe.  After they’re done with the “kinky fuckery” Christian asks how his fetus daughter is and Ana says, dear God, she says “She likes sex already.”

Alice right about now.

Alice right about now.

Flashback over, we are back to Ana lying in the grass and Demon Child, who she names Teddy because she hates him, is being all cute and crap.  Blah blah.  And then . . . oh geez, why, why????  Okay.  Teddy gets popsickle on his fingers so Ana puts his fingers in her mouth and sucks on them.  Just wait.  Then Christian puts his son’s fingers in his mouth and sucks on them too and just what the fuck is wrong with James?  Seriously.  There is something seriously wrong here.  Please say she doesn’t have children.

I will never be able to eat one of these again.

I will never be able to eat one of these again.

One more flashback to Ana giving birth with an emergency C-section blah blah and finally Christian sets up a train set for Demon Child and THE END.  Except NOT.  There are still pages with words on them.  First up, it’s Christian’s first Christmas with the Greys, told from the point of view of a four-year-old.  It’s as fascinating as it sounds.  Then we get two chapters of the first book from Christian’s point of view.  Just what I always wanted, to see into the mind of a total creeper.  I try to play along, keep reading, and then I get to the part where he has his people pull up a full background check on Ana and I just . . . I’m DONE.  DONE, do you hear me?  DONE!  I skip to the end, and there’s a little note from James.

“That’s all.  For now.”  Good grief.  She even ends it with a threat.  But at least it ENDS.  I’m going to have a drink.  Or ten.  Thank you for staying with me through this, however many of you actually made it.  You guys are the best, and all get As.  Meanwhile, I’m fucking retiring.

WOOOOOOOOOOOT!

WOOOOOOOOOOOT!

50 Shades Flunked Lessons 23 and 24

Almost, almost there.  I can see the light at the end of Ana’s vagina.  Okay, so last time I asked you two questions: Ch 23 Ana is ____ through part of this chapter, yet still manages to be _____. Ch 24 Christian tells Ana a bedtime story involving ____ and _____.  Some great answers here.  Kirstenhwhyte accidentally got 23 totally right, as you’ll see below.  And there were other answers that would have fit just as well, like buttplug (can be inserted into any sentence.  Inserted.  Snort), brain-dead, murder, gay, bang, pow, crack whores, cool whip, puppy, fart, vengeful wizard, wet dream, dunderhead, punchable, and of course, Robot Jesus.  You guys rock.

Back to the neverfuckingending story.  Ana is unconscious through part of this chapter, yet still manages to be freaking annoying.  See, she goes in and out of consciousness, so we get little snippets of conversations.  Ana has bruised ribs and a fractured skull (fortunately nothing important was damaged).  Christian is suddenly concerned about the spawn and is informed that it is fine.  Because it’s a freaking demon and nothing can kill it, duh.

David Bowie won't even have to do anything to this baby.  He can take him as is.

David Bowie can take this baby as is – no waiting required.

Christian’s dad says Ana is so brave and Christian says she’s crazy and stupid.  Gonna go with Christian on this one.  The Cocker Spaniel is safe – she was only drugged.  I can’t blame Jack for that – I’d have done it too.  She hears her dad tell Christian “If you don’t take her across your knee, I sure as hell will.”  I’m not making that up.  Just, yuck, gross, blech, ughhhhhh.  Ana “spirals down into oblivion” – I wish she’d do that permanently.

Ana finally wakes up fully because she needs to pee.  It’s so refreshing to hear about a romantic heroine’s need to eliminate bodily waste.  Again.  The nurse tells Ana she has a catheter, so you know, she could just go, but she thinks ew, gross.  So we get this extended scene where Christian wants to see them take the catheter out but the nurse says no and then Christian insists on carrying Ana to the pot and they argue about whether he can watch and bang, bang, bang goes my head on the desk.

Can be substituted for this chapter.

Can be substituted for this chapter.

Christian acts like a total asshole to the medical staff, ignoring their orders not to let Ana have food and I really hope she pukes it up all over him.  As usual, Ana is in the hospital, but it is all about Christipoo who has “died a thousand deaths” again and no you haven’t, you haven’t even died once, damn it.  He says he behaved badly (duh) and yay Ana is alive but he’s pissed at her and my head spins.  Also he tells her she has no regard for her personal safety.  Well, yeah, that’s why she’s with you, asshole.

Christian fills her in on more stupid crap about Hyde, the one who nearly killed her, but she’s most concerned about his ex because she’s Ana and she’s an idiot.  Ana has Twinnings breakfast tea again.  If I ever see that brand of tea, I will start a riot at the grocery store and stomp all of it into the ground.  End chapter.

I would rather have bunny tea than Twinnings.

I would rather have bunny tea than Twinnings.

Chapter 24 begins and we are still in the same place we were last chapter arghhh.  Ana made the papers, cause being the wife of the King of England, people give a damn about what happens to her.  Oh, wait.  The detective comes to talk to her about Hyde, but James skips that cause like, boring.  Ana is told she can leave soon and Christian asks the most important question which is when can she have sex?  Of course.  Her father comes to see her and berates her for being a dumbass.  I love the way the men show they care.

They have to take the back entrance cause of the paparazzi (psst Ana is queen) and they get home and take a shower together but no sex even though Ana is so desperate for it.  Even with a concussion and bruised ribs.  Right.  After he soaps her all up we get to hear how Elizabeth was helping Jack cause he fucked her and kept blackmail tapes of it and . . . who exactly was Jack going to show this to?  It makes as much sense as Jack getting out on bail yet NO ONE on the entire security team knowing this teensy bit of info.  Duh-oh.

I'd rather have this crack team protecting me.  (part of the how many times can I use Batman in posts saga)

I’d rather have this crack team protecting me. (part of the how many times can I use Batman in posts saga)

Christian warns Ana no more recklessness or he will “spank the living shit” out of her cause her Dad totally told him he could.  No words for this.  There’s more Ana begging for sex cause she can’t resist the power of psycho and then we hear how Christian was in the same foster home as Jack Hyde and that’s why Jack wanted to hurt Christian cause their paths were so similar and blah blah shitdoodle.  None of this back story was necessary.  Jack could have hated Christian for any number of reasons.  This is just so lame, even for James.

Mia the spaniel shows up, and it’s a party of Ana you are so brave and Christian you are so special vomitttttt.  And we find out Christian and Jack’s foster mom read him Are you my mother? and now James is ruining children’s literature stop it nowwwww.  Speaking of kid stories, though, Christian decides to get Ana to sleep by telling her a sweet bedtime story about how he started screwing Mrs. Robinson.  End chapter.

"Please say you aren't", Ana's baby pleads.

“Please say you aren’t,” Ana’s baby pleads.

These chapters bit (-500 Batpoints), but the worst is yet to come!  Next up, campers, is THE  END – or IS IT?  For your final Pop Quiz, write an essay about how much these recaps have changed your life.  You are free to state your opinion.  You’ll be graded for it, so you know, keep that in mind too.  Be sure to cite your sources and show your work and all that crap!

Fifty Shades Flunked Lessons 19 and 20

If you’ll notice, we will be covering two lessons today, class.  This is in an effort to finish the book before E.L. notices and adds more chapters.  Not that I’m paranoid or anything but DON”T TELL HER OKAY???  Right.  So last time I asked you to fill in the blanks of this question.  “In the next chapter, Ana is stalked by her ______ who forces her to ____ and then informs her she is ______.”

You all failed, like always, but there were some really awesome answers.  But the best answer had nothing to do with the question and came from faithhopechocolate when we got into a discussion about what would happen if Bob and Larry from the Veggietales had to cover 50 Shades of Grey.

These vegetables just lost their innocence.

These vegetables just lost their innocence.

Bob: Now kids, what do you think is going wrong here?
Larry: Well, Bob, it’s pretty clear that God will forgive them, but maybe they should try forgiving each other first
Bob: Larry, it’s not going to happen. No matter how hard we pray, EL James will still be a bad writer with her so-called hero being a complete psychopath.
Larry: Bob, that’s sad. Can we pray?

I laughed so hard I think I broke something.  I’d also think I was hell bound, except that this was made up by a lady who is becoming a Sister, so I think I’m safe.  Maybe.  Anyway, you’ll find out the answer soon enough, and it will be more horrible than you can possibly imagine.

Okay, so Ana’s dad woke up.  So of course Ana and Christian must celebrate with disturbing sex! (Sexy Times, Alice Pukes, AliceScreams)  Hooray!  He trusses her up in her robe and has her touch herself. (Alice Pukes)  Jeez, Christian, the whole point of masturbation is that you don’t need a moron like you around for it.  (Facepalm) Way to ruin that as well.  So this goes on for pages until Christian says “Come on, Ana” her cue to orgasm with him. (AliceScreams)  I once again wonder if there is ever a problem with him asking her to follow and her suddenly falling on the ground in an earth shattering orgasm.  That could be interesting at a family dinner.

I'll have what Ana is having! (this joke never gets old)

I’ll have what Ana is having! (this joke never gets old)

There’s a lot more nothing.  The detective comes back and blah blah Jack Hyde (remember him?  I don’t) says Ana seduced him yadda yadda and fingerprints on the helicopter blah and Hyde’s a “fucker” and a “fucking asshole” with a “fucking game”.  I’m all out of fucks. (BoredNow)  Ana then goes to see her Dad and says “Laters, Daddy” (AnaFail) which is so not messed up and then is walking out of the hospital when her gynecologist, who apparently stalks her, runs up and insists Ana go get a peek and a poke right this second! (WTF).

So the gyno wants to know why Ana cancelled four appointments.  Well, doctor, there could be a number of reasons.  Maybe she got a new doctor.  Maybe she chose a new birth control.  Maybe she decided not to take birth control.  And anyway, why is it your fucking business? (RedFlag) I mean, I have to schedule my gyno exams at least a year in advance to get into my doctor, yet Ana has one following her around begging her to come in?  (WTF) What kind of doctor is this?  Oh, wait, Christian chose her. (RedFlag, FacePalm) Nevermind.

So she has Ana take a pregnancy test before she gives her another birth control shot, and you’ll just never, never guess what happens!  That’s right!  Ana is now carrying a spawn of Satan – er, I mean, Christian. (Alice Cries) Ana reacts to the news like us readers.  “What?  No, no, no.  Fuck.”  End Chapter 19.

Noooooooooo!

Noooooooooo!

So chapter 20 begins and we’re still with the stalker gyno, who is also quite the condescending bitch. (AliceScreams)  There’s this whole bit with the doctor offering her water (secretaries offer water, nurses offer water, gynos offer water, and we get to hear all about it) and Ana accepting.  (AliceScreams) Then the doc says, what the hell, she’ll just give her an ultrasound cause she’s got time and there’s one right there in the same room. (WTF)  Yeah, no need for an appointment or anything.  Walk-in gynecological exams and sonograms are totally normal. (FacePalm)

Poor stupid Ana thinks the shot is supposed to be good birth control, but the doc says “It normally is when you remember to take the shot.” (FacePalm, AnaFail) Ooh, snap, Ana!  She totally freaks when the doc asks her to remove her panties, even though she does this like ten or twelve times a day. (AnaFail) I wonder if Taylor will be summoned to get her more panties while her legs are up in the stirrups.

Now it starts getting good.  We get to meet sparkly wand!  For more info, see Storkhunter’s informative blog.  She puts a condom over the wand (remember, guys, always practice safe sex with your transvaginal ultrasounds) and sticks that sucker up her hoo-ha. (Alice Pukes) Ana thinks “holy fuck” cause like it’s been almost an hour since someone stuck something up there.  The doctor then shows her the tiny blip that is her spawn on the screen.  Ana continues to call it “blip”.  (AnaFail) I call it “the bad seed”.

I believe you're carrying a . . . buttplug.

I believe you’re carrying a . . . buttplug.

Then the doc, who five seconds ago was giving Ana hell for not using her birth control right, says “Oh, looks like the shot ran out early.”  Like, wtf?  So was it Ana’s fault for not getting a shot or not?  Just – can you keep continuity within the same damn chapter, James?  Too much? (AliceScreams)

Ana has all sorts of arguments with the voices in her head, and she’s certain Christian will hate her when she’s all fat with baby.  (AnaFail) Also Christian will be mad because she didn’t get permission to get knocked up.  But mostly she’ll be fat.  Oh, nooos, what to do?  We all know the answer.  Email! (AliceScreams)

Sighhhhh.

Sighhhhh.

They say nothing, as usual, and Ana wonders if she should tell him after sex or during sex.  (WTF) I say during, Ana, while you’re strapped up all dignified like. She sees her dad, and subconscious says sure you’ll see your dad again “provided Christian hasn’t locked you away . . . or worse”  I could see being nervous about it, but honestly thinking your husband is actually going to murder you – hint, hint.  This is not a healthy relationship. (Fucking Red Flag).

I figure E.L. will drag this out more, but nope, she tells Christian, who acts like a mature adult and says “we’ll be okay.”  Haha, just kidding.  He totally flips his shit and acts like an asshole, screaming at Ana loving stuff like “This is why I like control.  So shit like this doesn’t come along and fuck everything up!”  (Red Flag, Red Flag, RED FLAG) Wow.  Be sure to record this one for the baby book, Ana.

Christian walks out on her, and Mrs. Jones gives her the magic cure for domestic abuse – tea!  She goes to bed, and Christipoo returns, stinking drunk.  He whines about the “invader” and how Ana will “choose him over me.”  (RedFlag) Wah.  Shut the fuck up, Christian.  Ana gets him into bed, and then finds his cell phone and realizes he’s been out drinking with his former lover and child abuser, the ebil Mrs. Robinson.  (Facepalm) And now Ana’s mad – not because her husband treated her like shit, but because of a woman, of course.  (AnaFail, Double Facepalm) Ana, you’re an idiot, and there is no hope for this child.  It’s going to grow up to be Macauley Culkin for certain.

Final Score: 100 – 62 – 120 = -82
These chapters were worse than all of my movies combined!

These chapters were worse than all of my movies combined!

Whoop.

Whoop.

Question 1: In Chapter 21, why does Ana believe she deserves a Congressional Medal of Honor?
Question 2: In Chapter 22, we get another ZOMG random plot device!  Any guesses what it is?  It’s dumber than you think, I bet!

50 Shades Special Edition: Mad Libs!

I had so much fun reading your mad libs, that I just had to show them off to everybody.  My refrigerator wasn’t quite big enough, and if I listed all of them on the next recap, the recap would be several pages long – er.  So I’m dedicating a special post to them.  I simply must do another of these things soon.
For those not in the know, I created the original mad lib from a random paragraph in 50 Shades Freed and took out random words.  My readers filled in the rest.  The scary thing is that they all made about as much sense as the actual paragraph.  Except they were a lot funnier.  This is the original mad lib:
Look, it's Christian on the cover.  And he brought friends!

Look, it’s Christian on the cover. And he brought friends!

“Do you want a _____, a ____?  What do you ___, Ana?”  Christian ______ at me and I know he’s _____ – my lost ____ dealing with events beyond his _____.  He’s been ______ and ______ all afternoon.  This is a ______ he cannot manipulate and ______.  This is _____ in the raw, and he’s kept himself from that for so long, he’s_____ and _____ now.  My____, ____ 50 Shades.

Here we go.

“Do you want a STD, a baby?  What do you suck, Ana?”  Christian shat at me and I know he’s got diarrhea – my lost buttplug dealing with events beyond his schlong.  He’s been stupid and pungent all afternoon.  This is a bitch he cannot manipulate and train.  This is my vagina in the raw, and he’s kept himself from that for so long, he’s one and done now.  My shitty, idiotic 50 Shades.” – twindaddy

Vagina in the raw cracked me the hell up.  Well done, twindaddy!  And no doubt true in Ana’s case.

“Do you want a balloon animal, a platypus?  What do you smash, Ana?”  Christian shanghaied at me and I know he’s ionized – my lost piglet dealing with events beyond his phantasmagoria.  He’s been photosynthesizing and fluorescing all afternoon.  This is a jeroboam he cannot manipulate and how.  This is mucus in the raw, and he’s kept himself from that for so long, he’s buccaneering and curtseying now.  My poultry, emasculate 50 Shades.” – goldfish

As usual, goldfish’s vocabulary continues to astound and amaze me and crap I’m sounding like James now.  I think offering her a balloon animal or a platypus either one would have to make her feel better.  But what about the poor piglet?

I'm sure Christian would give her a balloon ram.

I’m sure Christian would give her a balloon ram.

“Do you want a dummy, a nappy?  What do you want, Ana?”  Christian burped at me and I know he’s ridiculous – my lost sense of self dealing with events beyond his mental aptitude.  He’s been acting like a child and throwing his toys all afternoon.  This is a situation he cannot manipulate and somehow he still doesn’t realize how stupid he is.  This is egotism in the raw, and he’s kept himself from that for so long, he’s a caricature of himself of himself and bloody annoying now.  My crappity, crap crap 50 Shades.” – kirstenhywhyte

I just love this one for so many reasons.  I can see Christian acting like a child and throwing his toys – come to think of it, that’s what he’s doing when he throws Ana around.  Crappity crap crap, indeed.

“Do you want a shit, a crap? What do you think, Ana?” Christian waved his ‘down there’ at me and I know he’s got an STD – my lost puppy dealing with events beyond his ‘down there’. He’s been crying and wailing all afternoon. This is a catastrophe of epic proportions that he cannot manipulate and shit. This is eggs in the raw, and he’s kept himself from that for so long, he’s going to go celibate and I wish I had a brain now. My poor, little poopsy 50 Shades.” – Miss Four Eyes

OMG, laughing hysterically here.  No, Christian, don’t wave your “down there” and show off your STD!  We don’t need to be introduced!

“Do you want a butt plug, a butt plug? What do you butt plug, Ana?” Christian butt plugged at me and I know he’s butt plugged – my lost butt plug dealing with events beyond his butt plug. He’s been butt plugged and butt plugged all afternoon. This is a butt plug he cannot manipulate and butt plug. This is butt plugged in the raw, and he’s kept himself from that for so long, he’s butt plugged and butt plugged now. My butt plug, butt plug 50 Shades.” – faithhopechocolate

Sweet and simple.  You can insert buttplug into any sentence in 50 Shades.  Get it?

“Do you want a doing, a winner? What do you analyst, Ana?” Christian attacks at me and I know he’s underneath – my lost qualifying dealing with events beyond his fleet. He’s been temper and entering all afternoon. This is a rabbit he cannot manipulate and formula. This is bundle in the raw, and he’s kept himself from that for so long, he’s killing and substance now. My oval, buttery 50 Shades.” – thelesbiannextdoor

She used a random word generator for this one.  I think we’ve now figured out the secret to how James writes her books.  Buttery 50 Shades is fabulous.

So there you go.  50 Shades of hilarity.  Stay tuned tomorrow for the next buttplug, er, 50 Shades recap.